Quarter-life crisis
I don’t like birthdays. The last birthday that I celebrated was my seventh, with a party thrown by my parents at a branch of a popular fast-food chain. I remember wearing a birthday hat and a nice dress which I stained with spaghetti sauce, and barely smiling because of a missing front tooth and newly healed chicken pox scars on my face. I was the biggest killjoy at an early age: I did not join the parlor games.
Since then I have not celebrated a birthday again, not even when I turned 18, which should have been a huge deal for a girl who is entering womanhood. I thought having a debut was an overrated prospect, and was just another form of pressure from society that you should spend a lot of money on one night even if you can’t afford it.
But as early as seven, I had dreams of my own. In fact, I remember filling out every single slum book about my dreams and aspirations, not knowing that life can never be planned.
Fast-forward to the present. I had my 25th birthday on the 22nd of April, and spent it in the government hospital where I work. I do not announce my birthdays, not even on social media, but then my colleagues found out anyway and I ended up spending my “accidental birthday” with them. But in the back of my mind, I was lonely. Honestly speaking, I just wanted to go home and cry.
My birthday unleashed a tidal wave of emotions. I am stuck in the crossroads of youth and adulthood. The unhealthy pressure of being successful and figuring things out is just too much for me. My birthday means going to family reunions and constantly being heckled by questions: “What are your plans?” “Are you going abroad?” “When are you getting married, hija?”
My birthday means having a decent amount in my savings account when all I have is just enough for my daily sustenance. I am at a point in my life where I question every decision that I made in the past; the what-ifs, how-comes and whys are like jabs to my gut. And social media is making things worse. I tend to compare every detail of my life to the lives of people I barely know. But at some point, I realize that something has to be done, that I need to stop making excuses and find ways to make things better.
The first step is acceptance. Acknowledge that you are going through a crisis. Let this major transition terrify you a bit; it just means you care about your life and where it is heading. From there, make plans.
Second, limit the toxic people in your life. Find a core group who knows who you really are and who will not judge you for the amount of money in your wallet. Confide in them, and let them reassure you. Third, make yourself busy. Engage in new hobbies or sports. I run and play basketball in my free time; these give me a sense of fulfillment and an immense reserve of endorphins that I can use for the rainy days.
Fourth, leave the situation that does not make you happy, whether it’s a job or a relationship. The anthem of twentysomethings is “moving forward.” Fifth, find out what motivates you and redefine success. Ask yourself questions like “If I have a lot of money to burn, will I be genuinely happy?” Look around you and find what really matters to you, like your family, friends, significant other. True success means engaging and touching people’s lives.
Right now I am assigned at the intensive care unit and almost every day, lives are taken away. Don’t waste your time stressing on things that you missed to own; rather, be thankful and make the most of the blessings you are receiving. People are insatiable and tend to want more. That’s why we have to pray constantly for contentment.
I’m no fan of birthday celebrations, but I’ve promised myself that from now on, birthdays will be about optimism and hope for the days ahead. As the writer Junot Diaz says, “The whole culture is telling you to hurry, while the art tells you to take your time. Always listen to the art.”
Ma. Korina Trixia L. Molina, 25, is a nurse at the Veterans Memorial Medical Center.
